


The Roles and the Lines

by Chichirinoda



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:07:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chichirinoda/pseuds/Chichirinoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Zen for her birthday! Her request was ItaSasu: starting off non-con and ending sweet. I think I delivered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roles and the Lines

**Author's Note:**

> This may seriously be the most twisted thing I've ever written, and that's saying something.

He couldn't move, and he couldn't see, the thick cloth of a blindfold bound tightly enough across his eyes that it made his head throb with every rapid beating of his heart. He twisted against his bindings, his arms fastened with thick leather cords above his head and his ankles tied spread wide by ropes tied somewhere beneath him. And he screamed, he screamed obscenities at his tormenter, who only chuckled softly, darkly, and stroked light fingers down his chest.

"Sasuke, if you don't be quiet, I'll have to gag you," came Itachi's voice from above him. He twisted and opened his mouth to scream again, knowing there was no one to hear, and that anyone who might hear him in this place would certainly never raise a finger to help him. But something soft was stuffed harshly into his mouth, a ball of fabric that tasted of sweat - a sock? - and made his tongue turn cottony.

He bit down, sharply, and was rewarded with a hiss and the taste of blood before the older man could pull his hand away.

A slap rocked his head to one side and he whimpered, his cheek now throbbing to match his head. No, he couldn't whimper, couldn't show any weakness, not in front of _him_.

Was he angry now? From the way he roughly pushed his knees apart even further, the ropes cutting into his ankles as the older man pushed his knees up, he thought he might be. He wished he could show his contempt of Itachi in his face, glare at him and sneer, but the blindfold hid too much of his face, and the gag forced his mouth open, and all he could do was concentrate on breathing through his nose and trying not to choke.

"That's better." The tone was almost a purr, satisfied as a cat. "You're so much more agreeable when you're silent."

The rough hands, calloused from years of killing, pushed his knees up a little more. His feet were beginning to tingle from lack of blood as the cords cut into him, but that was forgotten as something thick and slick with lube pushed into his entrance. He yelled again, the sound muffled by the gag, feeling as though his body might split open. He hadn't even prepared him, hadn't even taken a moment to let him adjust - but of course, why would he?

As his tormenter fucked him, he writhed, his body twisting under the weight of him, and against the bonds. The sounds of pain he made were choked and muffled, but they came through, and he screamed all the louder when a hand curled around his cock and began to stroke, pleasure adding to the pain.

Despite it all - because of it all? - he was hard. Hard and weeping thick pearls of fluid. The shame of it burned him like a flame, and he could feel his cheeks heating as the older man noticed and chuckled.

"You were too young when I left, weren't you Sasuke?" the purr came, close by his ear as his torturer leaned over him deeply, his hips snapping forward again and again. Somehow, despite the arousal and pleasure he had to have been feeling, the older man scarcely sounded out of breath. He was in total control, and relishing the pain he brought him. "But how many times have you dreamed of this? How many times did you want to be fucked by your own brother?"

 _Shut up!_ he wanted to shriek, but instead he was coming, his body bowing hard and writhing, spasming under the other man's weight. The older man groaned and the lips moved down, pressing hard into his throat and leaving a mark on his pale skin as fluids flooded into his body.

He hated himself totally in that moment, a complete emotion so visceral it was almost fetishistic in itself.

Then the emotions were ebbing away, draining out like water, as if he were simply too tired to maintain their energy. The orgasm left him limp, and he sagged, not even moving as the older man pulled the gag away and unbound him, leaving his eyes for last. Only when he was completely free did he let the genjutsu fade and he looked up, blinking in the light.

Madara smirked down at him. "Ah," he whispered. "You are a twisted one, my dear nephew. Did I play my role well, Itachi-kun? Did I say the lines just the way you would have said them?" he murmured, that same purr, but a different voice. Deeper. He gathered him close, stroking Itachi's hair gently, like a dutiful lover.

"Mmm," Itachi said, not wanting to talk. Talking would bring back the shame and hatred, and for now at least, he was at peace. Something like peace, anyway. As close as he could come.


End file.
